


Barney/Robin Drabbles

by dreamsofspike



Category: How I Met Your Mother
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-09-22 22:46:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9628592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsofspike/pseuds/dreamsofspike
Summary: A collection of my drabbles for Barney/Robin from How I Met Your Mother.Warnings: bondage, dark themes





	1. Frustration

The sharp spike of her heel trails slowly up the leg of his pants -- and suddenly he loses his place, right in the middle of his story. It's barely an instant before he's recovered, and he's pretty sure the others don't notice.  
  
But _she_ noticed.  
  
He can tell by the way she's trying to hide a smirk behind her menu.  
  
And that tempting tickle of her heel has not stopped.  
  
He's grateful when he finishes his story and someone else is talking, because he's desperately distracted.  
  
His mind is trailing back to the night before, when she wore those very heels -- and nothing else -- to bed, at his request. She knows exactly what she's doing to him, and she's enjoying it -- just as she did the night before, with him handcuffed to the bed and her and her red spike heels in charge.  
  
He bites back a little groan of frustration and tries to focus on the conversation.  
  
Soon enough they'll be alone again... and he'll be willingly at her mercy.


	2. Hurt Feelings

“Say you love me…” Robin murmured, her eyes closed as her lips covered his, her hands trailing up toward the place where the steel cuffs bound him to the bed.  
  
The words came easily to Barney, after so long spent forcing himself to hold them back.   
  
“I love you,” he moaned against her lips.  
  
“Say you want me…” There was a desperate need in Robin’s trembling voice as she drew back, her lips trailing down his throat in a line of soft, sweet kisses.  
  
“ _God_ , I want you!”  
  
“Say I’m the best you’ve ever had…”  
  
Even in this situation, his wicked sense of humor could not be denied. Barney suppressed a smirk as he raised his head, waiting until she looked up at him in a silent question at his silence.  
  
“What, you want me to _lie_?”  
  
He immediately recognized the dark glimmer in her eyes, the tightening of her mouth that told him that this was not a matter about which he should have been joking.   
  
“Robin…”   
  
His voice trembled slightly as she rose off of him, grabbing her small, thin tank top from the mattress beside them and stuffing it into his mouth as a makeshift gag. His pleading protest was cut off by the wad of fabric as she rose and stalked away from the bed, snatching up her robe and wrapping it around herself, then slamming the bedroom door on her way out.  
  
Barney had plenty of time to think about his mistake – and the hurt just beyond the indignant anger in Robin’s eyes. He tried to free himself, tried to spit out the tank top that packed his mouth so tightly that his jaw ached – but to no avail. After a few minutes, his usually well-controlled sense of claustrophobia began to kick in, and Barney struggled against his rising panic.  
  
How long would she be angry with him?  
  
How long did she intend to leave him like this?  
  
Was she even still in the apartment?  
  
It was nearly an hour later when Robin returned. Barney collapsed onto the mattress, his limbs trembling with relief as she approached him, her jaw set with stubborn resentment. She none-too-gently yanked the gag from his mouth, tossing it carelessly aside. He swallowed a few times to return the moisture to his mouth before whispering in breathless relief.  
  
“Thank God… Robin, I… didn’t know where you… I mean…”  
  
Her expression softened reluctantly at the remnants of fear she could see in his eyes.   
  
“Seriously, Barney – you don’t think I’d leave you to rot just because my feelings got a little hurt?”  
  
“No,” he confessed in a small, subdued voice, his expression solemn as he studied her face.  
  
She silently unfastened the handcuffs, and his eyes never left her face, though she studiously avoided his gaze. As he sat up, gingerly rubbing his aching wrists, he kept looking at her as she took off her robe and began to get dressed.  
  
“I’m sorry, Robin.” His voice was soft and gentle. “It was a joke – but I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”  
  
He slipped up behind her, and she went still as his arms slid around her waist, drawing her back against him as his lips caressed her throat. He stroked a gentle hand through her hair, turning her face toward him to kiss her on the mouth. She remained still and unresponsive for a few moments before sighing and yielding to the kiss, accepting his wordless apology. When their mouths parted, he waited until she opened her eyes to whisper with full sincerity.  
  
“And Robin… you _are_ the best I’ve ever had.”


	3. Tears

He sits alone in their usual booth, long after everyone else has gone.

 

He remembers sitting in this same spot, a year earlier, Robin beside him. He remembers the strange ache in his chest as her tears began to fall, how it just felt _right_ to slip his arm around her, to offer her more comfort and physical affection than he usually deigned to offer anyone he wasn’t trying to sleep with.

 

He ended up sleeping with her anyway – but that was beside the point.

 

For once in his life, he was utterly sincere, trying to be a friend to her with no ulterior motives.

 

He’s closer to her than anyone else in the group – has been for a while now. She _gets_ him like none of the others… sees life in very much the same way he does, though she’d probably never admit it.

 

Maybe that’s why he thought the time was right to tell her how he felt… even thought that she might feel the same way about him.

 

_Barney… listen…_

 

Her words echo painfully in his mind, again and again.

 

Apparently… he was wrong.

 

Barney takes another sip of his drink, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, which suddenly feel irritated, burning suspiciously. He sets the cup down, resting his face in his hands and letting out a heavy, shaky sigh.

 

The alcohol… the late hour… the fact that there’s a grand total of four people in the bar at the moment, including Carl – all contribute to his eventual, exhausted decision that there’s no point in covering up at the moment. He folds his arms on the table, hiding his face within them and allowing the hot tears to fall onto the tabletop below.

 

Too bad there’s no one here to comfort and console _him_.


	4. Unfaithful

She threatened him with every horrific fate known to man – once at gunpoint – should he slip back into his womanizing ways and cheat on her. Barney swore up and down that it would never happen. He loved her, and had made up his mind: she was what he wanted. He couldn’t guarantee forever – neither of them believed that anyone could – but he could at least promise her that if he ever fell out of love as he had fallen into it, he would be honest with her and break things off cleanly, rather than showing her the supreme disrespect of being unfaithful.

 

She wasn’t entirely convinced.

 

Neither of them would ever have suspected that Robin would be the one to cheat.

 

Barney thought nothing of her maintaining her current living arrangement with Ted. Asking her to move in with him would have been too much pressure too soon; and what Robin had once had with Ted was so far in the past that it wasn’t an issue anymore.

 

He believed that – right up until the moment he found them in bed together.

 

“ _Barney_!”

 

She gasped, a stricken look of horror and regret in her eyes as she scrambled to wrap the sheet around her naked body and get out of the bed and to his side before he could flee the room. Ted let out a yelp of protest as he found himself suddenly completely exposed, snatching the cover from the foot of the bed and pulling it up over his waist.

 

Barney wasn’t seeing anything, anyway, through the tears that blurred his vision. His eyes were nearly shut as he backed away, shaking his head, holding up his hands as if to ward off the image that was already seared into his mind. He stumbled as his back hit the wall, and he flinched as if burned by her touch when she reached him and reached out a trembling hand to touch his face.

 

“Barney… I… I’m so _sorry_ … I didn’t mean for this to…”

 

“Stop it,” he whispered, shaking his head, tears choking off his words. “Just… _no_.”

 

He pushed his way between her and the wall at his back, staggering as he reached the doorway. She stood where she was, clearly distressed, but not daring to follow him. He stopped in the doorway, half-turning to face her, smoldering accusation in his ice blue eyes.

 

“So… what is this? This is some kind of… of karmic payback for every other woman I’ve ever slept with?”

 

Her voice was hushed, despairing, already certain that she was not going to convince him. “Barney, no…”

 

“I knew I… didn’t deserve…” He hesitated, his voice choked and halting. “I should have known… this would never work,” he whispered, shaking his lowered head in the doorway for a moment before abruptly turning to make his escape.

 

She didn’t dare to follow, flames of burning shame and regret heating her face.

 

“You’re right, Barney,” she whispered, blinking back tears. “You deserve so much better.”


	5. Liar

He knows as they enter that the men are very dangerous – even before they lock his door and draw the blinds so he’s isolated from help, cross the room so they’re standing on either side of his desk hemming him in, and pull a pair of small black pistols from beneath their designer suits.

 

He has no idea how they got past security, but knows beyond all doubt what it is that they want.

 

He rises to his feet, but that only serves to give them better access. One of them grabs his arms from behind, holding him in place while the other delivers a brutal punch to his stomach that makes his knees buckle and drives the breath from his body. A strong hand grabs his hair and yanks his head back, as a low menacing voice snarls in his ear.

 

He knows exactly what they want to know – and he also knows that if he gives it to them, his own employers will be a hundred times scarier than these goons. He answers their questions, gives them just enough to satisfy them, to make them think that they have what they want so that they’ll leave him alive and in one piece.

 

In other words – Barney lies for his life.

 

He gets home and sits down on his sofa, a shaky exhale falling from his lips as he covers his face with his hands.

 

“Hard day?”

 

He jumps despite the soft familiarity of her voice… then relaxes at the gentle pressure of her hands on his shoulders, and then her mouth on the side of his throat.

 

“Nah,” he shrugs as he manages to flip her onto the couch and into his arms, smiling at her startled, laughing yelp. “I’m fine.”

 

He’s a very skilled liar, after all.


	6. Consider the Source

“You’re full of crap! I am not!”

 

Barney smiled as he poured his drink, as Robin’s indignant protest rose above the sounds of conversation and television to reach the kitchen.

 

“You so are!” Marshall insisted, excitement in his voice as he agreed with whatever statement Ted had just made. “You drink scotch, and smoke cigars, and don’t believe in long-term relationships…”

 

Barney frowned slightly, intrigued as he started back toward the living room, interested enough at this point to rejoin the conversation. Lily’s enthusiastic contribution made his heart leap up into his throat.

 

“He’s right! You’re the female version of Barney!”

 

Barney froze in the doorway, waiting breathlessly for Robin’s response, his heart racing with anxious anticipation.

 

“Um, no,” Robin retorted with a high, nervous laugh. “You’re neglecting one major difference: I’m not a slut who’ll sleep with anything that moves.”

 

The others started to laugh with her… but the laugh died in Marshall’s throat as he saw Barney standing in the doorway, and the stricken expression on his face. Lily was the first to notice and follow Marshall’s reaction; but within moments Barney found himself the unwilling focus of every eye in the room.

 

He immediately tried to laugh it off, giving Robin a smirk as he sat down in the chair across from her. “You’re just jealous because _not_ everything that moves will sleep with _you_. I’m just that awesome.”

 

The eye rolls and grudging smiles that followed his cocky retort left him a bit colder than they usually did. Barney tried to join in the conversation with the others again, but ended up leaving early for a change.

 

He tried to tell himself it didn’t matter. They’d all said worse about him, at some point or another.

 

But this was _Robin_ – and that was why it hurt.


	7. Worse than Ted

She never would have thought he'd be so thoroughly, pathetically... well... _coupley_.  
  
She can't really complain to anyone. Anyone she mentions it to just goes "awww!" and gets all gooey-eyed and gushes about how lucky she is and how jealous they are, because not many men would be so romantic, sweet, attentive... insert flattering synonym for smothering here, please.  
  
She sighs, wondering why she can't just appreciate it like any other woman would.  
  
She supposes it's nice, really... sometimes.  
  
He actually listens to her when she speaks, and therefore manages to really "get" her -- to know what she needs and when she needs it -- and then, he sees to it that she gets it, whatever it might be and however far he might have to go to get it.  
  
Once they got past the initial awkwardness of expressing their feelings, it seems that he decided he can't express them enough. He tells her he loves her all the time, usually in far more descriptive -- and often dirty -- words.  
  
It's the quiet moments she finds most disconcerting.  
  
She catches him staring at her -- just staring, with unmasked adoration in her eyes -- and the only thing she can think to do is to just rush him, attacking with lips and teeth and tongue and hands, until she's driven every soft, reverent thought from his mind and replaced them with the filthiest, lustiest one's he's ever had.  
  
She never thought he'd be like this with her.  
  
Honestly, sometimes she thinks he's worse than Ted.


	8. Death Sentence

He’s been numb since he got the call.

 

A part of him still doesn’t believe it’s anything more than a terrible dream.

 

He’s always been careful to take precautions, to protect his health even in the midst of his countless one-night stands – except for when he forgot to bring protection… or got too lost in the moment to bother… or was too drunk to remember…

 

_Crap._

 

_This is real, isn’t it? God…_

 

He’s dying. Maybe not tomorrow… maybe not even a year from now. Advances have been made in medicine in the last couple decades. He could live for many years more – but his life is irreversibly changed.

 

His heart sinks as he thinks of the call he needs to make now, but he swallows back his dread and opens his phone, drawing in a deep, shaky breath as he struggles to maintain his composure. He’s distantly impressed with his own calm when the call is answered.

 

“Hey. We need to talk. Can you come over?”

 

He closes the phone and sits down on the sofa, his head in his hands as he gulps in deep draughts of cooling, soothing oxygen.

 

He’s slowly, gradually bringing himself to terms with the death sentence that’s suddenly hanging over his head. He’s shaken at the moment, but he knows he’ll get past it, get strong, and get _awesome_ again so he can deal with what’s happening to him. He’s actually lucky to have found out about it relatively early, while there’s still time for drugs and treatment and anything else he can do to extent his inevitably shortened life expectancy.

 

He knows he has to tell Robin the truth; he loves her too much to do anything less.

 

He only wishes he’d found out about this before she decided to love him back.

 

 

 

 

He can hardly look at her as he stammers out his explanation for calling her here. His face is flushed with shame, his eyes welling with tears that he can’t seem to hold back, his hands shaking as he tries to keep them from fidgeting.

 

“I-I’m sorry, Robin,” he whispers at last, his voice trembling dangerously. “I didn’t mean to… put you at risk. I wouldn’t… not for anything. I just… I didn’t know, and… I’m so… so _sorry_ …”

 

His voice breaks, and he lowers his head, swallowing back a sob as he raises a hand to his face.

 

He’s surprised by the soft, warm pressure of her hand on his in his lap. He knows it’s pathetic, knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he can’t help but turn his hand under hers to clasp it tightly, hanging on to the comfort she’s offering. His shoulders shake as she moves from the chair to the sofa beside him, putting her arm around him with uncharacteristic gentleness.

 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, shaking his head in despair. “Robin, I never meant to… h-hurt you…”

 

“Shhh,” she soothes him softly, raising a hand to brush gently through his hair. “It’s okay, Barney. It’s all right. I… I might be fine. I’ll… get tested. But… we don’t know anything yet, so… it’s pointless to be all guilt-ridden over something that might not even have happened. Okay?”

 

He can hear the terse tremor in her voice, knows that she’s pretending for his benefit to be a lot less freaked than she actually is – but he’s too broken at the moment to reject her reassurance. He nods, subdued, resting his head on her shoulder.

 

“Right now, you need to be thinking about _you_ , Barney – making sure you’re doing what you need to do to get better. Right?”

 

He raises his head and looks up at her, eyes wide and stricken with mingled guilt and gratitude as he shakes his head. “How can you say that? How can you worry about _me,_ when I might have given you…?”

 

“You might not have, too… and you didn’t know,” she reminds him. She hesitates a moment, eyes lowered shyly for a moment before she meets his gaze and assures him softly, “I _love_ you, Barney. You know I don’t say that if I don’t mean it – and if I could leave you, because of something like this, then I wouldn’t be able to say that I love you.” She’s quiet for a moment, eyes downcast, a slow swallow visible in her throat. “I… need to get tested, yeah… and I won’t lie and say it’s not scary. You know better. But… no matter what that test says… it doesn’t change anything for you and me. Okay?”

 

Barney can’t speak. His vision is blurred by his grateful tears, as he puts his arms around her and holds on for dear life.

 

He has to go through this – there’s no choice about _that._

 

But he won’t be going through it alone.


	9. Ulterior Motives

He should have left the bar hours ago.

 

Any other night, he’d be far more concerned with getting _someone else_ drunk, and wouldn’t allow _himself_ to end up so wasted. But any other night, he wouldn’t have just confessed his feelings to Robin, only to have her reject him in the gentlest of ways – gentle enough to make him feel even more pathetic than the rejection already made him feel.

 

The pretty blonde who approached him at the bar would ordinarily have been his chosen pretty for the evening.

 

As it was, tonight… he was hers.

 

A few sweet, sympathetic words and gentle, seemingly innocent touches had him pouring out the whole depressing, pathetic, entirely un-awesome story to her – and she listened as he rambled on and on about Robin and the broken condition in which she’d just left his heart.

 

Fortunately, this girl didn’t have the slightest interest in his heart.

 

“Come here, sweetie,” she murmured softly, running her fingers through his hair and leaning closer to him across the bar. “Let me help you forget all about her.”

 

When she kissed him, he closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s mouth… her eyes… her voice, speaking words quite the opposite of the ones she’d actually spoken a few hours earlier.

 

He never noticed the girl’s friend slipping up behind him, sliding his wallet from his back pocket. When the blonde finally drew back with a sympathetic smile, Barney found himself smiling back at her with sleepy, dazed gratitude.

 

“Thanks for listening,” he slurred slightly. “You’re a good friend.” He frowned, reconsidering. “Or… you _would_ be a good friend if you _were_ my friend… but you’re not, and that’s better, ‘cause that means we can still have sex.” His expression became comically serious as he struggled to focus on her face, continuing as if he was imparting some great wisdom. “It’s never a good idea to have sex with your friends. Somebody always gets hurt. Maybe not… immediately… but… sooner or later…”

 

“Barney… sweetie…” she cut him off gently. “We’re not going to have sex tonight.” There’s mild irony in her voice as she explains, “I couldn’t take advantage of you when you’re drunk. And anyway… I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. But it was nice meeting you. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

 

She knew that she never would.

 

She and her partner never hit the same bar twice.


	10. All He Wants

She thinks she knows what he wants – and what she thinks scares her to death.

 

She’s not exactly inexperienced, but he’s been with many times the number of people she’s been with. She knows his expectations must be incredibly high – but she’s determined to meet them.

 

She doesn’t want to lose him.

 

She tries to be inventive and creative and exciting in bed, to come up with new and adventurous things to try, and silently congratulates herself every time she happens upon something that’s new to him, something that makes him lose himself completely, gasping out her name in trembling, breathless awe.

 

She loves him, and only wants to make him happy.

 

What Robin would never guess is that sometimes – though he’d never in a million years admit it to anyone, least of all her – all Barney wants is just to be with her, just to lie there in comfortable quiet, knowing she loves him and holding her in his arms, knowing that she’s _his_.

 

And sometimes, in the midst of his darkest thoughts and memories… all he wants is the reassurance that he’s hers, as well – and always will be.

 

Sometimes – all Barney _really_ wants is to be held.


	11. Trauma (Companion Drabble to Wrong Turn)

Barney’s always been damaged.

 

It’s the unspoken truth behind every light-hearted joke, every not-so-gentle mockery at his expense. They make light of his issues, because they know deep down that to face them on any real, serious level would be far too painful.

 

Even so… none of them have ever seen Barney _this_ damaged.

 

He’s faced unbelievable trauma, unspeakable torture and degradation, in the past week; and though not one of them dares speak of it, not one of them is quite sure he’ll ever be the same as he was… _before_.

 

It’s clear in the new nervous hesitation in his smile; the way he flinches when anyone – especially Marshall – gets close; the way he’ll stare into space for long periods of time, infinitely relieved when someone speaks to him and draws him out of his nightmare of memories – at least, after the initial reaction of momentary panic.

 

His laughter is forced; his eyes are haunted; his life is a shadow of what it once was.

 

Robin watches from the distance at which he now holds her, wishing that he would let her nearer.

 

He’ll never make it through this on his own.

 

She just wishes he’d let her help.


	12. Reason to Breathe

For the first time in as long as he can remember, someone else is in control.

 

Robin Scherbatsky has power over him.

 

It confuses him to think that, when he thought he was strong and confident, invincible, she came along without warning and threw all that into chaos. It terrifies him, to think that with a touch, a word, a _look_ , she can raise him to heights of joy and pride and satisfaction… or devastate him completely.

 

It turns him on more than he cares to admit.

 

It isn’t long before she catches on to the power she wields – and it turns _her_ on, too.

 

She likes to tie him down, toying with his body and emotions with torturous expertise, playing him against himself until he doesn’t know what he wants or what he feels or who he is anymore outside of her and the wonderful, horrifying, wicked things she’s doing to him.

 

The first time she wraps his scarf around his neck and gives him a wicked smirk before starting to wind it tighter and tighter around her fist behind his head, Barney stares at her in wide-eyed fear, shaking his head. She winks at him without a word, one hand reaching up in a trembling caress against his cheek – and suddenly he’s not afraid, because she’s reassuring him, she’s remind him that she wouldn’t _really_ hurt him… and that tremble reveals that _she’s_ just a little bit unsure of herself as well.

 

Those thoughts fly out of his mind as his breath is gradually cut off, and he gasps for air that won’t come, his wrists jerking against their bonds as he tries frantically to remember their safe word – but his thoughts aren’t words anymore, just an overwhelming wave of panic and desperation.

 

Just when his vision starts to get hazy and he’s sure that she’s not going to let up until it’s too late – she does, and he gasps in deep draughts of sweet, cool oxygen, staring at her in glassy, slightly disoriented disbelief.

 

Her left hand holds the scarf around his throat, just barely constricting, as her right hand moves down between his legs to slowly stroke his surprisingly hard erection. She smiles into his eyes with a raised brow, glancing down pointedly at the evidence that at least some part of him _loves_ what she just did.

 

“You’re _so_ mine, Barney Stinson,” she murmurs with smug contentment, intensifying her efforts when he lets out an encouraging whimper at the words. “I could do whatever I want to you right now – and you’d like it. You’d want it, beg for it, no matter what it was – just because it’s me… wouldn’t you?”

 

He nods, his head falling back, his breath quickening as her right hand becomes a little rougher, and her left tightens the scarf just slightly.

 

“I decide whether you move… whether you speak… whether you come…”

 

A little twist of her hand draws a choked, soundless cry from his lips.

 

“… whether you _breathe_ …”

 

She tightens the scarf until his breath is stolen completely, and his eyes widen then close with mingled panic and impossible arousal.

 

“Please…”

 

His lips form the word, but there’s no sound.

 

He’d need _breath_ to make a sound.

 

Robin knows what he needs, and she wants to give it to him. She brings him off with one final soft, expert stroke of her hand in just the right spot, and releases her hold on the scarf at that moment, allowing him to draw in a deep, shuddering breath, letting out in a cry of grateful fulfillment and release.

 

He never thought he’d trust someone this much, allow them this much power over him.

 

But with Robin, it just feels _right_.

 

For the first time in longer than he can remember, Barney feels not just desired but _loved_ – like he really matters to someone – and that someone just happens to be the someone he’s longed for, for years. He’d let her do anything to him, let her take her pleasure of him in whatever way she chooses. He’d let her take his breath, even his life if she wanted it.

 

After all… without her, he has no _reason_ to breathe.


	13. Drowning

His lungs burn for oxygen as he struggles against the powerful force that’s holding him down, holding him under, so much stronger than his desperate attempts to push himself up out of the water.

 

Strong hands catch his wrists and pin them behind his back, and panic overwhelms him as he struggles to escape, finally succumbing to instinct and inhaling a deep draught of water that burns his nostrils, his throat, his lungs.

 

“Need some more?” a cold voice behind him asks softly in his ear.

 

Barney shakes his head, coughing up water as he’s roughly released and shoved to his knees. A hard hand yanks his head back by the hair, and he braces himself as he feels the barrel of a pistol pressing up under his ribcage.

 

“You got the message?”

 

Barney nods desperately, eyes shut, a convulsive swallow in his throat as a shudder passes through him.

 

“You tell your boss… next time you won’t live… and by _you_ , I mean _him_. Got it?”

 

Barney nods again, trembling with relief as his tormentor releases him and allows him to collapse forward onto his face on the floor, still coughing and choking as he struggles to regain his breath.

 

It’s just another day on the job for Barney Stinson.

 

He goes to the bar, laughs off his friends’ questions and pretends that his job is just like everyone else’s… pretends he didn’t almost die today… pretends he doesn’t feel anything more for Robin Scherbatsky than what he feels for the rest of his friends.

 

For a little while, he even pretends he’s not pretending.

 

Then, she smiles at him, having no idea what she’s doing to him as his world goes spinning into chaos again, and he thinks that loving Robin Scherbatsky feels a little bit like drowning.


	14. Expectations

“Be Barney,” she demands.

 

He tries to tell her this _is_ him – the _better_ side of him. This is who he’d like to be, if only he knew how.

 

He’s willing to try, for _her_.

 

If only he knew what she really wanted from him.

 

He knows she won’t be with him as he is; he doesn’t stand a chance. And yet, what she expects from him is nothing more everything he’s always been. It’s how she’s comfortable, how she’s used to seeing him… and she doesn’t want anything else from him.

 

There’s no way that he can possibly win.


	15. True Love's Course

The course of true love never did run smooth.  
  
When they first met, there was no way either of them would have imagined spending their lives together. Sure, Barney thought about what it'd be like to sleep with her, but it never went any further than that for him.  
  
Back then, it never did.  
  
He _did_ begin to notice similarities in their wants and personalities, and to think that maybe they would be good for each other, but certainly not in any _permanent_ sense.  
  
When he suggested it, Robin quickly shot him down -- both personally, and in the game of Battleship that followed.  
  
Their friendship had its ups and downs over the next few years, and gradually became something more. But even when it did, it took them both a long time to face it and deal with it.  
  
Once they entered into an actual relationship, things got even scarier. Theirs was a tumultuous and stormy affair, filled with long nights spent fighting, and then making up with equal passion and fury.  
  
And yet, twenty years down the road, they were still together, still happy, and best of all... still not bored.  
  
Barney thought that if their path _had_ run smoother, it wouldn't have been nearly so beautiful, enthralling, and simply fun as it was.  
  
Neither of them would have had it any other way.


	16. Transfusion (vamp!Robin)

It was sort of her fault, anyway.  
  
If she hadn't been yelling at him for flirting with that skank at the party, then he wouldn't have been yelling back, and they wouldn't have been fighting, and his eyes would have been on the road as they rounded that turn...  
  
It's too late to change what's happened, now.  
  
Barney's lying on the side of the road where he was thrown through the windshield -- _Why couldn't he ever listen when I told him to wear his seatbelt?_ \-- an alarming amount of blood slowly pooling beneath him.  
  
"Robin..." he chokes out. "Call... c-call..."  
  
But she just shakes her head, staring down at him through wide, troubled eyes. She knows that it's already too late for that. She rocks back on her knees, covering her face with her hands for a moment as she tries to come to terms with what's happening.  
  
She knows there's only one way to save him now.  
  
He's gasping for breath, panic in his dimming eyes as she leans down over him and presses a tender, chaste kiss to his lips.  
  
"R-robin..." he whispers, pleading. "Help..."  
  
"Shhh," she murmurs, running a soothing hand through his disheveled hair as she gazes into his eyes with the devotion that's usually so masked. "I am."  
  
He looks confused as she leans down over him, as if he's trying to make sense of the subtle shift in her eyes... her mouth. She hesitates just a moment to breathe out a barely audible request, just before her lips meet his throat.  
  
" _Trust me_..."  
  
He does, even when the needle sharpness pierces his skin, even when what's left of his life's blood is drawn from his veins... even when she holds her own bloodied wrist above his lips and whispers for him to drink.  
  
She knows he'll be confused, and probably angry, and might never forgive her for keeping her secret for so long.  
  
But he'll need her.  
  
He won't know how to make his way in the new life that will be his when he awakens, and she'll be the only one who can guide him... and he'll need her.  
  
So he'll forgive her.  
  
After all, she's saved his life... in the only way she knew how.


	17. Taste of Love

This might not be real... might be only a dream or some weird imagination of her mind. She's not even sure how she knows that she'll be able to read his thoughts in the taste of a kiss -- but she _does_ know.   
  
He says he loves her, then he says he doesn't, then he insists he loves her again.  
  
There's only one way to know the truth.  
  
She strides purposefully into the room, for the moment not caring about the fact that the others are there. She forces herself to ignore the way his face lights up when he turns to see her, closing the distance between them even as he opens his mouth to greet her.  
  
He's startled to silence when she grabs him by his tie and pushes him hard against the wall, her hands falling to grasp his arms firmly, relishing the smooth, hard feel of his toned body beneath his designer shirt.  
  
He's staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. "R-robin," he stammers. "What...?"  
  
She doesn't allow him to finish the question, covering his mouth with hers in an aggressive, demanding kiss. His mouth goes slack for a moment; he's too stunned to respond at first. But then, he slowly begins to return the kiss, trembling hands rising to tentatively cup her shoulders and draw her closer.  
  
She already knows what she needs to know; she knew with the first taste of his lips.  
  
And knowing makes her want this kiss to never end.


	18. Injury

It draws her eye immediately, and Robin curses the attraction she feels; he’s not hers to want anymore. But Barney just _had_ to walk in here, sporting that black eye, and suddenly she wants him more than ever.  
  
Just when she thought she was finally getting over him.  
  
He sits down, and she reaches out to touch – and it isn’t until he flinches away that she realizes…  
  
He’s not bragging. In fact, he’s embarrassed that she’s noticed.  
  
That’s when Robin decides two things. One –she is going to _end_ Quinn.  
  
And two – she won’t be happy until Barney’s hers again.


	19. Goodbye

"Haaaave you said goodbye to Ted?" Her tone is light, teasing, her hands gentle but firm as she pushes him into his best friend's path.  
  
He's been putting this off, Ted can see it in the tears that well in Barney's eyes, unbidden, knows that Barney hasn't avoided talking to him during this whole farewell party because he doesn't care - but rather, because he cares _too much_.  
  
Ted pulls his friend into a tight hug, meeting Robin's eyes over Barney's shoulder and mouthing a soft "thank you" - for saving Barney from his own regrets, for knowing what his heart needs even when he doesn't, for loving him in ways he doesn't know how to love himself... and for allowing Ted the peace and certainty of knowing that no matter how far away he is, Barney will always be okay - as long as he has Robin looking out for him.


	20. Hers

It's just an ordinary evening, like any other. They've all gathered at Barney's apartment to enjoy a movie on his huge TV screen.   
  
Barney goes into his bedroom to get comfortable - which involves nothing more than removing his tie and jacket and unbuttoning a couple of buttons - before returning to the living room.   
  
He freezes in the bedroom doorway, struck by the sight that meets his eyes.   
  
Everyone's laughing and joking, their attention focused on Robin, who is balanced on the back of his sofa, his katana extended in her hand as she strikes a perfect pose. Her eyes narrow, her expression fierce and threatening - but her lips twitch slightly, her eyes dancing, and she can barely keep a straight face.   
  
"Your life is mine!" she declares, deliberately over-dramatic, and the others laugh.   
  
After a moment, Barney laughs too - but it isn't a joke to him, not really. Because he's never been more aware of how awesome she is, how much he wants her to be a part of every day of the rest of his life - and how his life _really is_ truly, completely, _hers_.   
  
Whatever it takes to make her his, too, he knows in that moment - he'll do it.


End file.
